


The violet of frostbite and the blackness of caviar

by IloveCallisto



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22099465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IloveCallisto/pseuds/IloveCallisto
Summary: Anna Henrietta was not used to being looked at with pity. It had made her to lower her defenses a little bit. And in the end, she could not run away from the matter anymore. She had to find out which Syanna was more genuine – the one who had written the orders to kill her on that paper with obscuring bitterness or the one who had accepted her apology in the garden and returned her embrace in a way that had indicated Anna Henrietta was not the only one who had been eaten alive by longing since the day their paths had been torn apart.
Relationships: Anna Henrietta | Anarietta & Syanna | Rhenawedd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	The violet of frostbite and the blackness of caviar

There was a window in Anna Henrietta’s bed chamber that reached from the floor all the way to the ceiling and opened out to a magnificent view of the downhill Palace Gardens and further away to Beauclair’s white cobblestone streets and vermilion tile roofs. Anna Henrietta often spent time in front of that window, for even though she knew every inch and outline of her duchy by heart, the beauty of Toussaint still took her breath away every time it got a change.

Now, however, night had spread its darkness over the landscape and only the occasional lights in the windows of the houses were left to faintly answer to the shine of the countless jewel-resembling stars. Nevertheless, time of the day did not matter, because this time Anna Henrietta stroke the velvet curtains around the window so deep in her thoughts she most likely would have noticed neither the capital city nor the meadows, vineyards and the snow-capped mountains surrounding it.  
That which had pulled the duchess’ mind into those excruciating depths – a yellow letter paper – was resting on the edge of the cosmetics table, where she had left it after she could no longer bear to look at the words written on it. The witcher had given her the letter at her own request after Syanna had been taken from the gardens and escorted back to the palace and her guarded room.

Anna Henrietta did not want to refer to it as a _cell_ even to herself, because the thought of ordering her sister to be locked up first thing after her decade long exile had finally ended mauled her heart at least as badly as the contents of that blasted letter. But she could not fool herself – even though the room was decorated with all the same luxuries and comforts as every other corner of the palace, if Syanna could not exit it as she pleased and if knights stood at the door observing her every move, it was a jail.

Still, Anna Henrietta hoped Syanna would understand that this time these measures were necessary for her own safety above all. The duchess had already stretched her authority to the utmost when Syanna had been brought to Beauclair accused for arranging the murders of four big-name nobles and knights, and the council had demanded an immediate trial and undoubtedly a notably harsher punishment than re-deportation. Her advisers had also expressed their concerns over the possibility of the culprit’s whereabouts being exposed and the most furious of her subjects taking pitchforks and the justice into their own hands.

The fact that the witcher had slain the vampire who had executed the murders had somewhat calmed people’s minds. But if it was revealed that she, Anna Henrietta herself, had been the beast’s intended fifth victim… well, her subjects were intensely loyal and in places worshipped her downright fervently. It was not at all difficult to imagine that many of them would consider it an honor to “protect” her from Syanna with extreme measures – even if they would then spend rest of their days rotting in Toussaint Prison as Anna Henrietta had informed would happen to anyone who harmed even one hair on Syanna’s head.

Certainly Syanna, having lived twelve years as an outcast and a leader of a bandit group, would manage a conformation with an average winegrower, art curator or bank officer but the last thing in the world Anna Henrietta wanted right now was more blood on Syanna’s hands. Their situation was quite difficult enough as it was.

Because that was what the letter had said – she had been supposed to be the target of the fifth and final murder, the crown jewel of a nearly flawless plot. The witcher had received the letter from beggars he had tracked down and who, according to the monster slayer, Syanna had used as middlemen to contact her manipulated vampire and to send him the next victim’s name, the description of the manner in which he was to be killed and the reasoning of why he deserved his fate.

Damien had been present when the witcher had handed the letter over to Anna Henrietta and had also seen its contents. The captain’s usually calm and expressionless facial features had twisted with wrath as the claims of the duchess’ complete lack of compassion had been red out loud. When the letter instructed the killer to first snap Anna Henrietta’s neck and then to rip the shard of ice that was her heart out of her chest, Damien’s face, already more fierce than before due to the scars of the vampire attacks, had looked positively terrifying.

“If ever there was a time I’d act against Her Illustrious Highness’ orders”, Damien had told the witcher after assuming Anna Henrietta was out of earshot, “That moment would be now, as I would march to Her traitorous, snakelike sister and gut that traitor with my bare hands.”

After a moment of consideration Anna Henrietta had decided to act like she hadn’t heard him and spare Damien from the consequences. One reason for this decision was that absolute loyalty and protective instinct were characteristics she valued in the captains of her personal guard. The other reason was that the words written by Syanna felt crushing in their cruelty and for a fleeting moment the same kind of anger had surged in her own heart too.

She kept reminding herself that Syanna had built her murders around the five age-old chivalric virtues of Toussaint – valor, wisdom, honor, generosity and compassion. These virtues were known to everyone and the knights had sworn to respect and execute them in everything they did. Syanna had skillfully obscured the victims’ connections to her own personal vendetta and instead had managed to create an image of a supernatural, righteous beast that punished those who had forsaken their previous values.

Perhaps out of those five virtues, the lack of compassion was just the easiest and most believable one to point a finger at Anna Henrietta for. Even though her benevolence and generosity to those who deserved it was world-famous, naturally it had also lured plenty of frauds, cheats and charlatans to her. To them she, to indicate she was not the one to be duped, had shown the door in a harsh manner. When the general awareness of her hotblooded temper was added to the pattern, maybe in the light of the evidence some of her subjects would have been ready to believe that she had been killed due to her cold-heartedness.

But Syanna also had her own reasons to blame Anna Henrietta for the inability of empathy. She had spat all these reasons on Anna Henrietta’s face in the interrogation which had taken place earlier that day in the gardens and had been so informal it had stretched every law and statute of Toussaint to a breaking point. Syanna had brought up the day their parents had disowned her and banished her into exile – the day Anna Henrietta had not said a single word in her sister’s defense. When the council, who had always thought Syanna as completely unfit to be a ruler, supported the judgement by listing her every mischievous and irrational action and offense, Anna Henrietta had sheltered in her room. She had not even taken the responsibility for the latest of the misdeeds, throwing fish bladders at the Nilfgaardian ambassador, which had been Syanna’s idea but entirely implemented by her. Syanna had even claimed that Anna Henrietta had been secretly pleased with the banishment of the family’s first-born child, for it had guaranteed her the access to the throne after the demise of their parents. The last accusation was certainly untrue, but if Anna Henrietta was completely honest with herself, in her opinion this solution had in a long run worked for Toussaint’s favor.

Anna Henrietta had repeated it to herself constantly after retreating in her bed chamber alongside her rotating thoughts – Syanna had full right and good reasons to be bitter. Their parents had blamed all the problems, including Syanna’s vagary, tendency to violence and rending nightmares, on the first suitably sounding curse, because the lack of a possible cure had therefore, in their mind, released them of all responsibility for trying to cope with the situation or searching for ways to make Syanna’s life with the symptoms a little easier. Anna Henrietta in turn had inherited the crown of Toussaint, which had been Syanna’s birthright, and had spent her entire life in the shelter of a glorious palace while hosting balls for aristocrats, overseeing tourneys and gracing with her presence the ostentatious social gatherings of whoever artist, singer or otherwise merited bigwig was supposed to be the next huge thing.

All those years Syanna had lived as an outlaw in the woods, pillaging and doing who knows what else in an attempt to scrape enough gold for an occasional hot meal and trying to stay away from the bloodiest fronts of the wars that never reached to bother Toussaint thanks to its autonomous status. During the most ruthless frosts of the winter, the biggest concern for Anna Henrietta had been that her inherited turquoise gemstones did not do themselves justice under thick fur coats. Meanwhile Syanna had tried to treat the dark purple frostbites corroded into her bare arms with herbs stiff from rime and washed herself in frigid lakes whenever the ice left a strip of shallows untouched. Porridge and gravy washed down with cheap stout in a tavern of some little village her reputation had not travelled to yet had been a rare feast for Syanna, whereas Anna Henrietta had had a selection of pastries, grapes and honey for her breakfast and just by looking at a certain direction in a certain way could at any time have black caviar and a glass of Sangreal 1269 vintage in front of her.

At least, this was evidently Syanna’s view on things. Anna Henrietta did not outright agree that everything had been purely easy for her, but it was true that especially after her repulsive arranged marriage had ended with Raymund’s delightfully untimely death she had to great extent been able to do whatever she pleased, enjoy Toussaint’s nearly endless supply of riches and shag whichever young knight or courtesan she had decided to call in her room when the company of her own hand had started to feel too tedious.

Planning a murder as a revenge for injustice was of course atrocious and unforgivable, but it was just another example of the twisted way Syanna’s mind sometimes worked – and one more reason why more effort for finding a solution should have been made when they were young, instead of putting the label of irreversibly contaminated on a child and treating her that way until it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Anna Henrietta turned away from the window, walked back to the cosmetics table and took the letter from its edge to look through it one more time. Part of her – and she could not estimate how large this part was – wished she had never asked to see the proof mentioned by the witcher of her own sister’s plans to have her assassinated. She could have dismissed the claim as nonsense, and at first, she had firmly intended to do so. Something in Geralt’s reaction when she told him he surely was mistaken in some way, however, had made her change her mind. The witcher in no way had tried to protest or argue but had simply bowed respectfully and as if to say the duchess was entitled to her opinion. Those who tried to make her believe their lies did not usually give up that easily. The look in the witcher’s eyes had been too understanding, sympathetic even – he had looked like he understood perfectly well that Anna Henrietta wanted to avoid facing the painful truth and stubbornly keep believing in her sister’s innocence.

Anna Henrietta was not used to being looked at with pity. It had made her to lower her defenses a little bit. And in the end, she could not run away from the matter anymore. She had to find out which Syanna was more genuine – the one who had written the orders to kill her on that paper with obscuring bitterness or the one who had accepted her apology in the garden and returned her embrace in a way that had indicated Anna Henrietta was not the only one who had been eaten alive by longing since the day their paths had been torn apart.

* * *

Syanna was not asleep when Anna Henrietta entered the room but sat on the bed with her back against the wall and arms wrapped around her knees. Anna Henrietta remembered Syanna spending many nights in such position as a child, with red eyes and drooping head, trying desperately to avoid falling asleep and the nightmares that would follow if she did.

Anna Henrietta detected puzzlement behind that cold, inexpressive mask Syanna always tried to wear. Possibly Syanna had heard Damien, who stepped inside the room after Anna Henrietta, giving the knights guarding the door a permission to take the rest of the night off. It had been more of a command than an invitation, actually, because the knights had been quite unwilling to abandon their post and had also expressed their objection for leaving Syanna without a proper watch.

Of course, Damien had been exactly the same when Anna Henrietta had told him what she was about to do but eventually he had swallowed – or Anna Henrietta had made him swallow – his protests. Now the captain settled for standing stiffly in the doorway and staring at Syanna in a way Anna Henrietta had not seen him stare at anyone before.

Syanna only glanced briefly at Damien herself, before moving her gaze to Anna Henrietta and finally to the piece of paper she was holding in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“Your fifth letter to Dettlaff.”

“Fuck.”

Anna Henrietta turned away as Syanna squeezed her eyes shut and placed her fingers on her forehead – out of tiredness or shame, she was not sure – and observed the room instead. It was windowless, but other than that, she had done her best to ensure it was as comfortable as possible. It was spacious despite the fact there were over half a dozen beds and sofas topped with plump silk cushions. One of them was barely visible from underneath a large pile of night gowns and other garments that were all made of expensive materials and none of which Syanna had even touched. Carpets, as well as some of the paintings, sculptures and vases that garnished the walls, had been imported all the way from Ofier. An ashen shelf in the corner was full of various books, jewelry and music boxes. Because the room was one they had spent a lot of time in as children it also contained some old toys, like marionette puppets whose legs Syanna had ripped off on her bad days and a pink rocking horse shaped like a unicorn. On the table, next to a fruit bowl, there was a deck of Gwent-cards from the Nilfgaard-faction which had always been Syanna’s favorite.

“Do you want something?” Anna Henrietta ultimately asked, once the silence had prolonged so much, she had had the time to inspect every single abstract line and curl of every painting of the room.

“Like what?” Syanna said, sounding as if she did not even fully understand the question.

Anna Henrietta briefly pondered when was the last time anyone had even enquired what Syanna wanted. Even as a child Syanna had tended to express her demands unprompted and outspokenly before anybody had time to ask. Naturally the daughter of the duke had also received what she wanted, at least as long as the desires had been about candy, toys and other things considered normal for children. During the years, however, Syanna’s requirements had begun to include more and more things that were not seen appropriate to royalty and “future ladies”, which had been the favorite expression of their governess. And after she had been denied enough times Syanna had stopped asking and started to take what she wanted herself.

There was no reason to assume this habit had altered during her time as a bandit, and maybe that was why Syanna now stared at Anna Henrietta as if she had just presented her an extremely difficult yet remotely familiar-sounding riddle.

“Something to eat or to drink. Or anything else that comes to mind.”

Anna Henrietta was pleased to notice that the plates and goblets on the silver tray that was left on the floor were empty. She had given her kitchen staff orders to prepare Syanna whatever meals she wanted, but until now she had been informed that Syanna refused to choose anything and did not touch the food she was offered.

Syanna looked at her silently and shook her head.

“Very well”, Anna Henrietta turned around, returned to the door and addressed Damien next, “I’m just making sure I have made everything perfectly clear: I shall now lock this door from the inside. You leave, and nobody – no guard, no servant – shall set a foot in this wing of the palace till morning. Ensuring this shall be your responsibility. You shall return with your men in the morning, in time for the changing of the watch shift.”

Anna Henrietta saw the corners of Damien’s mouth tightening as his most natural instincts waged wars against one another. Then, even though his voice trembled a little bit, the captain began:

“Your Grace, if I nonetheless remained nearby, just in case –”

“Would the captain be so kind as to remind us at which point this conversation turned into consultation?” Anna Henrietta interrupted coolly.

Damien did not reply. Syanna stared at them without batting an eye.

“In that case the captain undoubtedly remembers his place and trusts that we know what we are doing”, Anna Henrietta continued, and then, because such concern and even anxiety for her shined from Damien’s eyes, she tried to soften her voice a bit towards the end, “We shall meet in the morning, then. Hop, hop!”

Damien gave Syanna one last chilling look before turning away and exiting the room without a word. Anna Henrietta waited for the captain to turn around the corner at the end of the corridor before she closed the door and locked it as she had said she would.

“Well-trained lap dog you got there”, Syanna said, “Do you fuck him, or do you manage to keep him in such a short leash by some other means?”

Anna Henrietta did not answer, and she doubted Syanna even actually cared because she observed much more curiously how Anna Henrietta slipped the room’s key on a twine and hung it on her neck. Syanna herself had lost her virginity at fourteen years old to a young knight who had served in the palace and who she had known Anna Henrietta had had a crush on. The term losing was not a very fitting way to describe how stubbornly Syanna had pressed the young man to take her, and naturally the incident had caused him a great deal of unpleasant consequences once their parents had found out about it.

When Anna Henrietta had made certain the door was locked, walked on the opposite side of the room and sat down on one of the sofas, Syanna could no longer wait in silence.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and even though the question could have referred to the notably late hour, the ice blue eyes drifted continuously and with suspicion to the letter Anna Henrietta had placed next to her on the velvet surface.

“I wanted to talk. Clear some things up.”

“Right… now?”

“Before your trial tomorrow.”

“ _Tomorrow?_ ” Syanna practically laughed, “Well, well, these things move far faster than I remembered. The prisoners are no longer locked in the solitary confinement for a week, so they have time to _think about what they have done_ before being executed?”

“You shall not be executed”, Anna Henrietta said shortly.

Syanna raised her eyebrows lazily. “I assume you have made this decision without giving the ministers time to express how heavily they object? Surely that is against some kind of rules?”

“I am the rules”, Anna Henrietta retorted, “I have blithely taken advantage of that fact while investigating the murders you committed, and I don’t mind taking advantage of it even more as much as the need arises. I shall not let anything bad happen to you, and that’s that.”

Syanna turned her gaze away and for a moment Anna Henrietta almost saw the overpowering weight of the feelings that stormed inside her head. But when Syanna pulled herself together and spoke once more, the derisive tone had returned to coat her words.

“As far as I know anything about the council, you will have your hands full, then. They’ve despised me ever since I learned how to walk and did it incorrectly in their eyes. They pushed through my banishment the moment they had enough flimsy arguments, including some stupid fictitious curse. They never saw me as anything but deranged piece of filth.”

“So, you decided to prove them all wrong by driving a vampire to tear everyone who had ever treated you badly to pieces?”

Anna Henrietta understood well why Syanna had risen to a leading position among considerably bigger and more experienced robbers so quickly, because the look that she hurled at her from across the room was gruesome. However, Anna Henrietta felt completely calm – she wanted to see that her words touched Syanna, because that way she was more certain she was getting genuine reactions from her.

If Syanna had remained totally serene and performed her every speech calculatingly like she was playing a role, Anna Henrietta might have been more terrified of what she was about to do soon.

“They got what they asked for! They treated me like a dangerous lunatic, like some erratic animal that needed to be tamed by clobbering! So, I just gave them exactly what everyone expected from me!”

“And what about me?” Anna Henrietta asked.

“What?”

“What about what I expected from you?” Anna Henrietta stood up and started to walk a short distance of the floor back and forth like always when she tried to remain calm instead of giving in to becoming indignant. “What was the thing you always kept saying to me when something turned sour when we were children? When you could not be bothered to sit through long dinner parties the way etiquette demanded, when you did not make progress in your Nilfgaardian studies as quickly as would have been desirable, when you got caught returning from one of your nightly adventures when the sun was already up? You always said you never lived up to anyone’s expectations. And just as often you said you did not care. That you do not care what other people want from you. But do you not see what has happened? In the end you fulfilled all the expectations people had about you precisely.”

Anna Henrietta stopped. Despite years of practice she had done by sauntering in the circles where losing one’s face was simply not an option, her voice shuddered ever so slightly as she continued:

“Expect mine. I was the one person who believed you did not have to be like everyone expected you to turn out. That you were not destined to be evil, cruel or crazy just because you were born during an eclipse. I was deeply shocked when I saw how quickly mama and papa were ready to believe the theories given by the mages that examined you and to declare you could not be saved. I believed, no, I _knew_ you were better than the label they printed on you. And now, I fear I am the only one who will end up noticing they were wrong about you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you in no way expressed this belief in my ultimate goodness when mom and dad threw me out, then.”

Syanna’s voice had regressed back to tranquil and prickly, so Anna Henrietta also sat back down again.

“The council has gone through plenty of changes while you have been absent. None of them hate you because of how you acted as a child anymore”, Anna Henrietta paused for a moment, “Now they hate you because you are directly responsible for the murders of four highly valued knights. Furthermore, indirectly but still as a result of your actions, a whole army of vampires attacked Beauclair, destroyed buildings and killed an enormous amount of people. The confirmed number of fatalities is still rising, and we receive dozens of compensation claims for lost properties every day.”

“Since Geralt has clearly told you every possible detail there is to know”, Syanna said and gave another meaningful look to the letter that was lying on the sofa, “Surely he also mentioned the fact that I intended to go meet Dettlaff face to face when he first demanded it? Maybe, if I hadn’t been locked up back then, I could have made it to that meeting, and he wouldn’t have had to fulfill his threat and tear the city to the ground.”

“Instead he would have torn you to shreds.”

“Maybe that would’ve been best for everybody”, Syanna smirked, “Dettlaff would’ve killed me, after which Geralt would’ve most likely killed Dettlaff. You could have gotten rid of both monsters at the same time, and you would not have ended up in this awkward situation you are currently in. Because we both know you’ve always preferred to avoid those.”

Anna Henrietta decided to ignore Syanna’s pretended indifference to whether she was alive or dead for now. She had seen the same display many times in their youth and it had never convinced her even then. Sure, Syanna had been fond of adventurous stunts and suspicious company, but she also had woken up screaming and crying nearly every night because the deadly figures in her dreams threatened to take her with them.

It was also true that Anna Henrietta had demanded Geralt to give a very detailed report on everything related to the Beast of Beauclair, including all that had happened the night the witcher had unauthorizedly freed Syanna and taken her to meet Dettlaff. Syanna had literally slipped through the claws of the duped and furious vampire by purely fortunate coincidence and protective magic of Uncle Artorius, but according to Geralt, she had been beside herself with fear when Dettlaff arrived.

“Is that what I’m currently doing in your opinion? Avoiding awkward situations?” Anna Henrietta asked instead and crossed her arms, “As you undoubtedly understand, I could get rid of you quite easily without any help from angered vampires. If I decided to give you a death sentence, I would only have to snap my fingers and I guarantee nobody would be there to stand up for you.”

“Well, luckily I’ve at least grown used to it.”

“I am here now, Syanna!” Anna Henrietta’s voice rose so suddenly even Syanna boggled, “I am standing up for you, even though I’m not sure anyone understands why I even bother! Even though it is _you_ who has tried to give a death sentence to _me!_ ”

Syanna’s lips trembled just about visibly. Anna Henrietta was relieved to notice that not even the smallest part of her heart expected Syanna to deny it and offer an alternative explanation anymore. She had finally let go of the fantasy where Geralt and Regis had somehow been mistaken, Syanna was victim of blackmail instead of the blackmailer, and Dettlaff was behind everything because he was simply a heartless monster.

Even though nothing in the letter Geralt had showed her proved Syanna had written it per se, seeing its contents as a whole had anyway helped Anna Henrietta to accept the true state of affairs. And as so many times before, when all the cards were on the table and it was time to make do with them, she felt the most competent.

“Do you know what was the very first thing I did after I was crowned?” Anna Henrietta asked after a moment during which the only sound in the room had been silence and the only movement the flames above silver candlesticks.

“Got drunk in some pompous ceremony while the ministers gave speeches so fawning your ass felt gooey from just listening?”

Anna Henrietta had to restrain herself for a moment to hide her smile.

“I had half a dozen of those ceremonies waiting for me, not to mention countless more official appointments”, she admitted, “However, I postponed them all so I could immediately grant you full amnesty and send messengers with the declaration to each of the neighboring countries. I was certain you would return right away once my message reached you from wherever your road had taken you – and I waited eagerly.”

Syanna stared blankly at something in front of her and Anna Henrietta wondered if it had taken weeks or just days for her to learn about her remission back then. Some of the advisors had tried to point out there were no guarantees that Syanna was even alive anymore. Anna Henrietta had not even bothered to get angry about such comments, for they had been so flagrantly oblivious of Syanna’s nature and strength.

The fact that nothing was heard from Syanna had worried Anna Henrietta for completely different reasons.

“I waited for your return for three months”, she continued, “Finally, when the word had reached Zerrikania at least, it became clear you had no intention of coming back. So, I started to search for you. I ordered the knights who had escorted you into exile to return to Caed Dhu forest where they had left you and track your movements from there.”

“And they bended over backwards for sure”, Syanna snorted, “They knew they’d be fucked if I came back and revealed how they had treated me during that journey.”

“I knew nothing about that”, Anna Henrietta said emphatically, “They only said to me that the task would be difficult because they would have to trace movements from several years ago. I responded that in that case, they’d better get on with it as quickly as possible. But they were not the only ones – in the course of time I sent all my best knights to look for you one after another, to gather possible clues, to spread out placards portraying your attributes on the notice boards of towns and villages. I assume that is when you began using your alias. What was it again?”

“Rhenawedd.”

Anna Henrietta did not know or ask why Syanna had chosen a name like that. Most likely she had invented it hastily when some hopeful peasant encountered on the road or in a tavern kept asking if she was that blue-eyed, black-haired missing sister of the duchess of Toussaint whose finder would receive an enormous reward. Later, Syanna had then discovered that a false name could prove useful in other situations, too. Like in a sexual relationship involving romantic features with an extremely impetuous vampire.

“I promised a reward. 50 000 crowns to anyone who found you and brought you back to Beauclair unharmed. 20 000 crowns for a hint that led to you being found. I even promised to pay thousand crowns for each hint that somehow put us on your trail, even if you were not reached in the end. Of course, I received innumerable amount of trivial, fictitious leads from riffraff seeking to get rich quick, but there were few times I truly felt like I got close to you. Some voyager said he had spotted you in an inn, sometimes in Velen, sometimes in Novigrad, and when my envoys got there the staff recalled a woman resembling the depiction doing business with them. However, each time she had already moved on and no one ever knew where. I still payed the promised reward those times, because for a short moment I had felt like I nearly found you.”

“I know. I took advantage of it a couple of times”, Syanna responded, “Sometimes, when I was running short of gold, I sent one of my men to Toussaint to mention some convenient little village or tavern where the waitresses liked to ogle – a place where I knew I’d stick in the mind – and then I showed myself there, drew a bit of attention and scatted before your snoopers arrived to ask their questions.”

If Syanna had expected Anna Henrietta to be shocked about this revelation, she found out she was mistaken.

“I reckoned that could be the case. But I also thought that if it was the only way you accepted any kind of assistance from me, then so be it.”

For the first time in the course of the conversation Syanna looked overtly surprised. Shortly a touch of bitterness blended in with the astonishment, as if Syanna felt she had once again been cheated out of something she thought belonged to her.

Anna Henrietta knew self-respect was one of Syanna’s most ruling characteristics – she had always despised pity and the alms that were motivated by it and had done everything she could to avoid them. After her exile, she had crawled into the campsite of bandits, half dead from cold and hunger and expecting to be raped and murdered. After receiving unexpected help and care she had decided to pay off her debts by any means necessary, and she had stayed on that road for years.

Sadly, Syanna had always been incapable of distinguishing the willingness to help that was born out of pity from that which was born out of love and therefore did not require anything for payment. Anna Henrietta had still not given up hope she would one day make her understand that difference, but now was anything but the right time. So, she continued promptly:

“The people who actually claimed having found you were much more troublesome. I’m sure you can imagine. Some had recruited dopplers for help, or actresses who befitted the description of you – as if I did not know I would recognize you in a flash, as soon as I laid my eyes on you. On the first few times, the disappointment was so crushing I had the impostors arrested and thrown straight into prison. But very soon I became numb and did not even get my hopes up in the slightest when the next slime ball would arrive to declare he had you with him. It continued for a year, two, beyond that even, until I finally felt like my heart could not take it anymore. I stopped searching for you and instead tried to accept the fact I would most likely never see you again.”

And that attempt had continued every single day until she had seen Syanna stepping out of the Don Tynne estate’s front door and for a one wonderful moment she had thought everything was fine. Prior to that moment Anna Henrietta had imagined that the mistake she made as a child had been too big in Syanna’s eyes and that the wound ensued from it had been too deep for Syanna to ever want to be in contact with her again.

After that moment Anna Henrietta had gradually found out how unfathomably worse the situation was.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Syanna asked.

“Because I want you to know that I accept all your accusations about how I turned my back on you when we were children and how I abandoned you at the very moment you needed me most sorely. But it is pointless to try to claim I haven’t done everything in my power to get a chance to make it up for you since growing up.”

Even from across the room Anna Henrietta was able to detect how Syanna’s irises wavered.

“I played with the thought of returning home so many times”, she said, “It was like a small, warm vision I cherished whenever nobody saw. I imagined how I’d astound all of those who had assumed I’d croak within a week alone in the woods. How the codgers in the council, who thought they had smoked me out of the duchy for good, would shit their overpriced silk pants when I marched back in the palace. How you… How you, for one damned time in your life, would forget what kind of behavior all the sodding traditions and etiquettes demand from you when you saw me step in. And how you’d be ready to do anything to please me for the rest of your life. And how everything would be back the way it was before.”

Anna Henrietta watched how Syanna clenched her left fist tightly. It had been her chronic manner when they were children, a way to find out her emotional state far more truthfully than from her facial expressions or tone of voice. Anna Henrietta had already noticed that nowadays Syanna often stood with that hand hidden behind her back. But now she was squatted against the wall on the bed and made no effort to cover up neither her hands nor feelings spattered across her face.

“But something in those visions always made me go crazy with rage. I could not withstand the thought of coming to Toussaint and seeing the people who had lived here all those years receiving riches, abundance and appreciation despite treating me the way they did. Just thinking about it made me so angry I once yanked my sword out and struck it straight through the chest of my nearest gang member. The others naturally wondered what the hell had gone into me and I had to cook up some story about an important gig he had supposedly screwed up.”

Syanna’s knuckles were so white they stood out in the room almost as clearly as the candles, and even though every word seemed to make her more and more indisposed sit looked like she was uncapable to stop talking.

“Was I supposed to just watch Vladimir Crespi enjoying the yields of his gaudy vineyard and remembering his numerous tourney victories like some big hero even though he had beaten me unconscious with a horse whip after I had attempted to escape my escort? Or endure how Louis de la Croix rolled around in the riches and admiring lackeys he had gathered, even though he had kicked and slandered me every time he was on the watch? How Ramon du Lac was allowed to revel in gangland parties with his fiddler friends, wiping his ass with all the chivalric virtues, even though he had denied me food and had instead stuffed his cock down my throat when I made the mistake of saying I was hungry? How Milton de Peyrac-Peyran boasted about the bravery of the knights although he didn’t even have the balls to once tell his friends to stop their little amusements? Was I supposed to just continue my life like none of that had ever happened, to move forward despite having to see their faces every single day? And was I just supposed to accept that you sat… that you are sitting…”

“On the throne that was your birthright”, Anna Henrietta completed the sentence, when Syanna’s fierce breathing started to break.

“And that you had gotten your hands on by not standing up for me when I was being expelled”, Syanna continued. She gave a joyless laugh. “You know what was the most agonizing thing when I thought about it afterwards? Because I did that a lot, believe you me. The worst thing was how _little_ it would’ve required from you. The only thing you needed to do was to step in front of dad, mom and their advisors and say: ‘Hey, it was I who threw those fish bladders on that Nilfgaardian dandy, not Syanna. Don’t punish her for it’. That was the only thing I wished you would do.”

Anna Henrietta still remembered the panic that had grabbed her as the ambassador dressed in a black tunic embroidered with a golden sun had looked around appalled, bald patch covered in suet and scales, and Syanna had lied flat on the floor, laughing so hard she almost chocked. She remembered how dad had marched towards them, eyes flashing furiously and instinctively, without asking any questions, stretching his hand out at Syanna. Anna Henrietta had not managed to utter a single word and already at that point she had felt terrible, even though she had thought the consequence would be just the conventional discipline that Syanna had faced numerous times before.

Later it had turned out to be the exact time their parents had had enough, and even when the situation was boiling over dramatically, she did not manage to utter a single word.

“And you know what the best part is?” Syanna continued, “No one would have even believed you! Like no one believed you when you said you started that fight during which I knocked two teeth out of your mouth. Everyone would’ve assumed you just tried to save my skin again – they would’ve just told you to shut up and you would’ve faced no consequences whatsoever. But I would have seen that you at least _tried_. Instead, for the entirety of my last trip from the palace I peered over my shoulder and tried to understand that the only person I ever could cling to did not even peek out of the window when I was being driven away from her.”

Anna Henrietta remembered painfully clearly where she had been while Syanna and her convoy had made their way along the Hauteville bridge towards the city’s marketplaces and squares filled with bustling crowds gathered there to catch a glimpse of the scandalous princess one last time. She had sat in their play room – which at that point was presumably just _her_ play room – curtains pulled in front of every window and trying to shut out the voices in her head that screamed it was the last place in the world she should have been in at that moment. She had joggled on her lap a stuffed rabbit, her favorite toy whose button eyes Syanna had once ripped off, saying it had become blind. Anna Henrietta had then pulled Syanna’s hair and knocked a fist into her face and they had tussled until the governess, deeply shocked by their behavior, managed to separate them.

That time Syanna, with a black eye and badly bleeding lip, had once again been seen as a sole culprit. Anna Henrietta had waited in their room while Syanna was being punished, and when she had retuned, she had walked very slowly and tenderly and winched when Anna Henrietta tried to touch her.

Anna Henrietta had recalled that moment while staring at the eyeless face of her plush toy and simply, she had been too afraid. What if they would have punished her too? What if they had decided that whatever allegedly afflicted Syanna was contagious? Anna Henrietta had chosen her own safety – she had adopted the role of the good girl, the role that had fallen on her because the other one was so extremely rebellious and recalcitrant by comparison. And after there were no more comparisons to be made, she had strengthened the role with even more impeccable behavior than before.

“I wallowed in those thoughts more and more every day”, Syanna said with a suffocating voice, “Until something just snapped. I saw those people in my head and I decided they deserved my revenge. I decided I had a right to take revenge – because I was possessed, right, they had told me that themselves. There was a dangerous curse, insanity, twistedness, whatever, living in me and that’s why they _had_ to keep me down with violence, hunger, humiliation. So I wouldn’t just stand up one night and kill them all. Well, I decided to do just that. And when I started to ponder what would be the best way to do it…”

“You remembered a certain vampire you had fooled around with at one point and who had fallen for you madly enough to do you some favors if properly motivated”, Anna Henrietta guessed.

Syanna fell silent as Anna Henrietta picked up the letter again.

“It was clever to stage the murders so that they looked like punishments for disrespecting the chivalric virtues”, she said, examining the text like it was completely mundane to read about one’s own heart being ripped off, “Especially when more than one of your victims were rumored to do just that. De la Croix was known for his stinginess and stuffing a coin pouch down his throat did indeed cause us to concentrate on entirely wrong kind of theories for a while. I assume that all of your letters included as precise description of how the murder should be performed as this one?”

“What – “

“And still, at the same time”, Anna Henrietta interrupted regardless of Syanna’s fumbling beginning of a sentence that quite probably would not have gone anywhere, because she looked like she only wanted to buy herself more time to resolve where all of this was leading, “You were stealing barrels of Sangreal 1269 vintage and attempted to organize the theft of the Heart of Toussaint too – even though you surely understood both of them were things that would immediately reveal your part of the incidents to me.”

“It was not stealing. They _belonged_ to me.”

Anna Henrietta nodded. “It was very easy to guess that was your motive. You never particularly liked the exclusive wine of the ducal family, preferring stronger alcoholic beverages since you were in your teens, and in your opinion the Heart of Toussaint was a flamboyant, pompous trinket when papa gave it to you as a gift. Still, the idea of regaining them both after they had been forbitten from you must have been appealing. You have always been, and still are, very childish that way.”

“I forced a vampire to chop four men into pieces, and you seriously claim there is something childish about me?” Syanna hissed.

“Is it true that you said ‘I call the pink one’ when you and Geralt found unicorns in the Land of the Thousand Fables?”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

Anna Henrietta smiled. “Yes. At first, I thought your actions just showed yarning for our childhood where everything was simple, and we competed by stealing each other’s toys and reserving our favorite horses during riding lessons. Taking my private wine from right under my nose and wanting back the seized family heirloom – it was so very much like you that I did not question it at all at first. Only later did I start to ponder some of the decisions you had made concerning those plans that were peculiar to put it mildly.”

“I wonder what those decisions were”, Syanna snorted, but Anna Henrietta already saw she had started to become defensive.

“For a start, like I said, the fact that you decided to carry them out while your murders were investigated, and you must have known that everything suspicious would draw even more attention than usual. You could have waited till I was… till Dettlaff completed his task. Nobody would have cared about the ducal wine at that point – it would have probably been auctioned off, or at least stealing it would have been notably simpler. Secondly, the fact that after you managed to steal one barrel, after you took a huge risk of getting caught and got away with it, you later returned for another one. There was no apparent need for it. One batch should have been sufficient as a statement since you don’t like the wine and could not possibly have planned to empty the entire storage.”

Anna Henrietta paused for a bit to see if Syanna would protest and claim she had indeed wanted more Sangreal because of its taste or that she had had some other, long-term plan for the wine. Anna Henrietta would not have believed either of these claims and Syanna was probably aware of this, because she did not say anything. Instead she kept staring at her with the cold turquoise eyes and waiting for a continuation like knowing there would be one.

“But the most curious thing about the wine”, Anna Henrietta carried on, “Was the fact that once you had gotten your trophy – that you knew would direct suspicions straight to you if revealed – you spilled it on possibly the most incriminating piece of evidence, the letter containing the name of Dettlaff’s next victim.”

“Is it truly that implausible it got splattered – “

“I would not be surprised if you had poured the entire barrelful across the floor and walls just to needle. But the way you decided not to write another, clean letter to be sent to Dettlaff after the spillage was downright intentionally scraping the chances of being caught.”

“It was just a small stain of wine.”

“And you knew that the ducal sommelier would identify it as Sangreal the second he smelled it”, Anna Henrietta smirked, “It would have taken you half a minute to write a new letter.”

“This may come as a surprise for you”, Syanna hissed in a snarky manner, “But those letters were not meant to end up in the hands of you and your snoopers.”

“But you could not be sure they wouldn’t”, Anna Henrietta stressed, “Surely you knew that I had hired assistance for the investigation, yet you did not bother to take even the easiest precautions. You did not equip the letters with a command to destroy them immediately after reading, and you did not replace the one stained with wine. I repeat, it would have taken you half a minute. But you preferred not to do so.”

They looked at each other, and despite Syanna’s chilling glare, or perhaps because of it, Anna Henrietta had to go through a bit of a trouble to stop herself from smiling. She began to remember vividly the times their governess had ordered them to practice prose, and she had laid in her bed at night going through Syanna’s writings, pointing out the lack of logic in the behavior of the characters and Syanna had thanked her by calling her a nitpicky killjoy.

“Anything else?” Syanna snapped.

“The robbery of the Heart of Toussaint…”

“ _Yes?_ ”

“Despite having a vampire at your disposal, you decided to hire an ordinary, Cintrian man who – “

“He was a professional thief. I had used his services numerous times before.”

“Nevertheless, he was just an ordinary human being. And he had to infiltrate Orianna’s estate in the company of a well-known and striking songstress in a party filled with potential eyewitnesses. You had a _vampire_ at your disposal. Someone who can literally vanish by turning into smoke, walk through the walls. But…”

“I get what you’re trying to say”, Syanna said, “You have decided to convince yourself that, in some subconscious way, I wanted to get caught.”

“It might have been subconscious or completely acknowledged, but that does not really matter”, Anna Henrietta said, which made Syanna bend her head back and angrily blow her hair out of her face, “But it is undeniable that the longer one observes your plans, the more they start to look like a challenge rather than a perfectly polished plot. You have always liked to play games, to compete – would I find you before you… found me.”

“If it was successful it would’ve culminated in your assassination, and you call it a _game_?”

“You always wanted to play with high stakes.”

“I don’t know what kind of veil of idealized, cuddly childhood memories you are wearing while watching me, but you might want to disrobe it soon”, Syanna had started to visibly shake along her words, “I attempted to _kill_ you!”

“Do not get the wrong impression. I was devastated to find that out and it will darken everything between us for a long time”, Anna Henrietta said quietly, “But I see you through only one memory – the memory of how much we loved each other. And even though it got buried under mistakes, regret, grief and bitterness for too long, I know it has not changed or disappeared.”

Syanna smashed her fist against the nearest wall so hard the red and gold colored paint came down. She clenched her teeth, but immediately stroke again, time after time, long enough for Anna Henrietta to lose count, and only stopped once a trickle of blood ran from each of her knuckles.

“Why are you so goddamn _sure_ about it?” Syanna finally squeezed through her teeth, “Why are you so absolutely, unswervingly, without a doubt certain that somewhere in my twisted, rotten to the core heart there is some small part that can still be saved?”

“Why are you so sure that there is not?”

Syanna fell silent. Torn shreds of skin dangled from her knuckles and blood was smeared on the sheets when Anna Henrietta picked Dettlaff’s fifth letter up one more time – which she also decided to be the last time.

“One thing especially drew my attention when I was reading this”, she announced, “In what way is a snapped neck linked to the lack of compassion?”

Syanna pressed her fingernails straight into the bloodshot back of her other hand, possibly to justify the water trickling from her eyes by the pain. But when Anna Henrietta pretended not no notice long enough and allowed time to pass, she answered:

“It isn’t.”

“That’s what I thought”, Anna Henrietta stated, “It stuck out because the other murders focused so accurately on the chivalric virtues they were supposedly punishing the victims for abandoning. Tying Crespi to the pillory to deprive him of honor, cutting off de la Croix’s hands because he never gave anything to the others, murdering Milton in a bunny costume to symbolize cowardice… And in this instance too, tearing a heart from the chest to demonstrate literal heartlessness – “

Syanna scratched her knuckles harder and harder, and more blood spattered on the sheets. Anna Henrietta did not ask her to stop.

“But snapping the neck beforehand”, Anna Henrietta raised her gaze from the paper into Syanna’s eyes. She did not turn away. “You only added it because you did not want me to suffer, right?”

They stared at each other. Anna Henrietta only flimsily noticed that some of the candles in the room had started to slowly burn out. However, Syanna’s silhouette was even more visible than ever before as she leaned on her knees and seemed to simultaneously think very fast and be out of reach of all clear thoughts.

“Syanna?”

“Does it matter?” Syanna’s reply came quickly, as if hearing her own name from Anna Henrietta’s lips had waken her up from some kind of stupor, “Does it change something?”

“Am I right to take that as an affirmative answer?”

“What does it ma – “

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes!” Syanna yelled, “I wanted it to be as quick, clean and painless as possible! I did not want you to be hurt! What the fuck does it matter? _Does it change something?_ ”

“It depends on the perspective”, Anna Henrietta said calmly, because even though Syanna turned more panicky by the second, her own heart felt considerably lighter than before, “Let us say that it will hardly work as a direct mitigation at your trial. But it has a great deal of significance for me – and _I_ , in turn, have an immense significance in deciding how that trial will turn out for you.”

She sensed that Syanna refrained from rolling her eyes only because she knew that it was the truth.

“It is important, positively crucial, for me to know this. To know that, even though you were so filled with anger and darkness and blinded by the lust for revenge, in the middle of all that you still in some way remembered that you cared. Yes, it was a minuscule and frail indication of attachment towards me, but it proved that something had remained. That not everything there was between us before your banishment had died off. It was like a tiny seed that I had to see in order to be sure that your capability to love, forget and forgive could regenerate from it.”

She did not add out loud – because they both knew it nevertheless – that Syanna had already taken her first steps towards forgiveness earlier that day in her interrogation. Despite it, the dark eyebrows puckered up gloomily as she pondered Anna Henrietta’s words.

“Fine. Let’s say you’re right. That I’m able to leave the past behind and move on with my life”, Syanna began. She raised her hand on her face and in what was certainly a deliberate move spread blood all over her forehead and cheeks before continuing: “I am out of my mind, remember? What if I simply change my mind one day? What if you set me free, allow me to stroll around the palace at will, and the one time I get a good enough opportunity, your bodyguards prancing around in their strapping armor lose focus for a moment, and the darkness in me takes hold?”

“I get the feeling you are much more afraid of that possibility than me”, Anna Henrietta said, “But since you happened to broach the subject…”

She stood up and took out the dagger she had brought with her. It was the same weapon fit for skinning game that the Cintrian had had with him on that fatal inroad to Orianna’s, which had allowed them to discover the wild boar symbol engraved on the handle, eventually leading them to Dun Tynne. Anna Henrietta was not sure why she had picked that exact one, because the palace certainly had no shortage of other knives and swords.

The memory of Cecilia Bellante’s lifeless corpse on the floor of Orianna’s private chamber only reminded her of the fact that at least it was proven said dagger could slit the throat effectively and cleanly. This thought by no means improved her confidence, but now she had definitely gone too far to turn back.

So, staying as tranquil as possible, she did what she had planned to do, which was placing the dagger on the table and returning to her seat before turning to examine Syanna’s reaction.

Syanna had stood up for the first time. The blue eyes were suddenly filled with terror, as they bounced from Anna Henrietta to the table and back. Syanna’s shoulders were stiffen and her breathing consisted of short, frequent twinges.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a voice that sounded like an overly tight knot.

“I’m giving you your good enough opportunity.”

“Stop.” For a bit, Syanna’s ability to produce speech seemed to be dropping on the level of panting out individual words. Everything else looked to be too much as she backed out a few steps without noticing, until she reached the room’s rear wall and pointed the dagger. “Take that away. Get out of here.”

“No”, Anna Henrietta said succinctly, and gave a grading look to the night gowns piled on her other side, “We should actually go to bed soon. It has been a long and strenuous day, to me at least, and I assume you agree.”

Syanna looked like she had not disagreed more strongly with anyone in her life.

“To bed? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t – what do you – is this some kind of a joke? Do you think this is _funny?!_ ”

Syanna’s eyes rippled with bright, near feverish glow every time she was afraid. Anna Henrietta remembered the first time their father had taken them along to hunt foxes and she had seen the desperate look of the animal encircled by beagles. She had been stunned by its resemblance of Syanna, just woken up, in the middle of the dark room, mere moments before realizing the creatures from her nightmares were not real.

Now she had not seen that look for such a long time and was almost as stunned than back then.

“I cannot even imagine many things I found less amusing than this”, she said, “But I think this is necessary.”

“How – _what_ is necessary?”

“You are correct to assume that my intention is to set you free before long. I did not search you back from exile to lock you inside for a change. At one time, when I still expected you to return peacefully and of your free will, I even planned some sort of joint rule. Needless to say, but we can forget that plan in the current situation. I doubt even I could get that kind of arrangement through, nor would I even want to at the moment.”

Even though earlier Syanna had expressed her bitterness over Anna Henrietta jumping the queue in the line of succession to the throne, she seemed to be unmoved by the confirmation that the situation would remain the same. The title of a duchess had never truly enthused Syanna when she was a child, let alone all the learning and education that had been demanded for it. She had just been annoyed with the council and the court who had decided she was inappropriate for the position and eventually convinced their parents to agree.

“It is my wish, however, that you’ll stay with me in Beauclair”, Anna Henrietta continued, and these words seemed to reach Syanna better than the preceding ones, or at least she removed her gaze from the dagger for the first time, “But it will not work out if either of us spends every day questioning whether or not you are simply playing along because you feel like you have no other choice – and if you are waiting a chance to bring your plan to a conclusion, after which you could perform yet another vanishing trick.”

Anna Henrietta had told Damien she needed to take this risk for herself, for her own peace of mind. But looking at Syanna, she started to feel like she wasn’t the one in that room who most sorely needed to know.

“So”, Anna Henrietta had so much experience in keeping up appearances she was not accustomed to hearing her own tone of voice failing so spectacularly in an attempt to be carefree, “Here you have an opportunity that is as good as they are ever going to come. I have on my person a key that will let you out of this room. The guards have been given orders to stay away and not to return till morning. You know were the Palace Stables are, should you wish to have a steed for your getaway. You could very well be beyond Toussaint’s borders by the time I am found.”

Syanna stared at her, lips slightly ajar.

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” she finally huffed, “And if I don’t take advantage of this opportunity, it is then an undisputed proof I have mended my ways? The council no longer suspects me, all of my actions are forgiven, we all live happily ever after?”

“Some members of the council, some knights, some of my subjects – in other words, quite a few people – will certainly continue suspecting you everlastingly”, Anna Henrietta sighed, “And this time you cannot blame it on any label planted on you by a curse. This is not about dispelling their doubts, but mine… and most obviously yours, too.”

Syanna stayed silent for a moment. “So, despite everything you’ve said you still have doubts about me?”

“If we were to assume that I do, you would not exactly be in a position to criticize me for it.”

“And still you decided to start playing with fire”, Syanna hissed and nodded towards the table, “This is just sick, and I do know what I’m talking about. So please be so kind and sweet as to take that fucking knife and sod off before something bad happens.”

“I do not see this as playing with fire”, Anna Henrietta said firmly, “I do not believe anything bad shall happen. You are not going to hurt me.”

Syanna snorted. “The council and that golden boy who worships the ground under your feet presumably agree with you.”

“The council knows nothing of this… hm, for the lack of a better word, let us call it a test. Do you really think I would inform them about something like this? Like I said, this does not concern anyone but you and me.” Anna Henrietta quickly brushed the chain around her neck. “Damien objected strongly, that is true. Much more strongly than he has ever objected any of my decisions before. But he gave in eventually – like he had any other options.”

“How can you be so sure?” Syanna asked and nodded towards the door, “Perhaps he has sneaked back here, is standing there, sword erect and heart pounding, waiting for your first cry of pain?”

“Damien has never disobeyed my direct order”, Anna Henrietta said, but stood up nevertheless, for it was not quite the truth. At least she was fairly certain that during the vampires’ attack it was Damien who had revealed to Geralt where Syanna was hidden.

She walked up to the door, took out the key and pushed it into the lock. The corridor was, of course, completely empty, but Anna Henrietta still took a moment to leisurely stand in the doorway. If Syanna had imagined she’d refuse to check the corridor out of fear of an attempted escape, she would find having been mistaken.

When she locked the door and turned around, she noticed that Syanna had sidled back to the bed. Syanna seemed to have understood that Anna Henrietta was serious about spending the night, and leaned on her knees again, nibbling her thumbnail on the edge of the bed.

“And what if”, Syanna began after a while, as Anna Henrietta was going through the pile of clothes on the couch, “What if I don’t take this opportunity, but for some other reason than having changed my mind? How can you be sure it’s because I have ditched my plans for good?”

“And what would this other reason possibly be?” Anna Henrietta asked while ruminatively fingering the fabric in her hands. It was not exactly high-quality – and therefore she had absolutely no idea where it originated from – even though she had told her maids to choose the best possible options from her own personal repertoire.

Syanna shrugged. “Even though your people would not find you till morning, they’d know exactly who the culprit was and who they’d need to search for.”

“That possibility did not concern you in the least when you were stealing the Sangreal and the Heart of Toussaint”, Anna Henrietta said, “Besides, you have already proven yourself capable of hiding from my best knights like you never existed. Therefore, I do not understand why it would prove to be a problem for you this time around.”

“Because this time around I don’t have a follow-up plan at the ready?”

Syanna’s answer sounded a lot more like question, which did not pass Anna Henrietta unnoticed.

“Did you even have a follow-up plan to start with?” she inquired. Unlike one might have expected, it was not a sarcastic comment, she was but purely curious – it was one of the things she had started to ponder after noticing intentional-looking holes in Syanna’s plots. “Sure, you had planned the series of five murders from start to finish, but what would have you done after it? Dettlaff would have expected Rhenawedd to be freed, presumably demanded his blackmailers to provide some sort of proof about it. You would have had to either go back to him or keep hiding from him for the rest of your life – and I dare to assume that hiding from a vampire is noticeably more arduous than hiding from a few knights errant.”

Syanna did not reply.

“You told Geralt your plan was like playing with fire and that you were ready to either burn everything down or burn yourself. If you still aimed to fulfill your plan, uncertain future should not prevent you in a situation as ideal as this one.”

Anna Henrietta turned around and lifted the piece of clothing she was holding, a flaxen nightdress tinted with green and gold.

“I was thinking about wearing this. Or would you have wanted it?”

“You come in here, practically tell me I can stab you to death in your sleep if I feel like it and then ask me something as futile as that? I honestly don’t even know if you’re serious anymore.”

“Syanna, you planned to have me assassinated”, Anna Henrietta said, “If I did not say or ask things that felt silly and futile in comparison, I would say or ask nothing at all. I am not going to go down that road.”

She turned her back, put the nightdress down on the arm holder and started to disrobe her jewelry and remove her hairpins on the table closest to the couch. The sharp edges of her voice crisscrossed on the air for a moment, making small cuts like invisible razors, but they scarred over when Syanna talked after a short while.

“Yes, I would have wanted that one.”

“No way. It is mine now.”

Anna Henrietta did not turn around to look, but she sensed that Syanna had to make at least a little bit of effort not to laugh. Only a couple of candles were still burning as she grabbed the extinguisher.

“Good night, Syanna.”

There was no answer, but she heard the sheets rustling.

* * *

Anna Henrietta woke up to Syanna screaming.

The cry made her jump up and get moving much faster than her eyes could adjust to the darkness, and as she knocked her knee against the nearest piece of furniture she only felt the candlesticks and ornaments dropping on the floor, for the clattering was completely buried by Syanna’s suffocated pleas.

“Don’t take me there! Don’t take me!”

“Syanna? Syanna!”

Anna Henrietta’s just awakened hands fumbled the darkness in front of her, she grabbed the edge of the table and only when the warm moisture spread across her palm realized she had just hit the Cintrian’s dagger. The secondary reaction of a flashing pain, however, sharpened her mind and she started to sense both the room around her and the figure struggling in invisible chains on the other side of it.

“They’re taking – they’re coming – they’re going to catch me – “

“No one is taking you. You are safe. I am here!”

Anna Henrietta did not manage to even be surprised by how naturally everything still happened. Her eyes were barely starting to distinguish Syanna’s outlines when she had already dodged the uncontrollably flailing arm, grabbed her sister by the wrist and turned her on her back. Syanna’s hair was stuck on the forehead soaking with sweat and even though her eyes were wide open, Anna Henrietta was not yet sure in which of her worlds she was currently in.

“Don’t let them take me!”

“I won’t. You have nothing to be afraid of. They will not get in here. I am here, you hear me?”

She placed her free hand on Syanna’s shoulder and felt her tremor calming down very slowly and finally ceasing entirely. Her head was flooding with questions she was dying to ask – above all whether the nightmares had been this bad throughout Syanna’s absence, whether they had gotten worse when she was abandoned, how she had been able to sleep since Anna Henrietta had been the only one able to calm her down when they were children – but she knew better than to ask any of it.

Everyone had kept asking all throughout Syanna’s childhood. Her eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion, had been examined and drawings portraying decapitated bodies analyzed, but no one apart from Anna Henrietta had been capable of preventing the dreams or alleviating their effects. Scholars and other savants had also enquired about it from Anna Henrietta herself, but she never understood their interest – she had found it weird, because they had all behaved like she had some secret powers even though she never did anything but hug, be close and maybe sometimes shush soothingly. Their governess had reckoned that exact thing to be Anna Henrietta’s secret power, when she had asked her, and it had confused her even more.

Anna Henrietta pressed her forehead against Syanna’s, caressed her cheek and felt a sheer clammy mess with tears and blood, both dried and fresh, oozing from her own hand, all mixed up together.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

She remembered exactly where they had been when she asked that question for the first time. They had spent their first summer in Nazair when Anna Henrietta was five and Syanna seven, and during that first night in the sumptuous beach villa the nightmares had been exceptionally intense. New, unfamiliar bedroom did not help the case and Syanna had seen beheaded and hanged people in place of white curtains and marbles even after waking up. Finally, Anna Henrietta had climbed on her bed and suggested they would sleep next to each other for the rest of the night.

Back then Syanna had shrugged and muttered: “If you absolutely insist”. In the morning, the blue eyes had blinked speechlessly as Syanna noticed nothing else had frightened her awake again.

Now Syanna raised her head, faced Anna Henrietta’s gaze with quivering pupils, and Anna Henrietta felt fingers wrapping around hers.

“Please.”

“Alright. Move over.”

She elbowed Syanna till she rolled closer to the wall, lied down next to her and cuddled closer. Syanna snorted faintly as Anna Henrietta felt the short, stiff hair tingling her neck.

“But if you try to tickle me again, I’ll make you pay.”

Anna Henrietta smiled.

“Good night, Syanna.”

For a few breaths, it was quiet.

“Good night, Anarietta.”


End file.
